Sanji's Hands
by StarkBlack
Summary: ZoroSanji Sanji is injured more than just physically during a fight and Zoro is there to help him. Warnings: yaoi, boyxboy, fluff.


This is my least favorite of all my stories. The plot moves too fast. I like to draw things out until my readers are ready to shoot me. The subject matter is also kind of wacked out, but meh, I wrote it just for fun. It was for a friend's birthday. I don't regret it, I'm not going to change it, but I warn you. It's not great. Hope you enjoy at least a little. x)

Fanart by the awesome Feral Inari for this story is here: http:/pics(dot)livejournal(dot)com/feral_inari/pic/0001t8p5/g18

**Sanji's Hands**

Zoro was glad it was raining. The rain would wash away the blood that covered his skin, stained his clothes, ran into his eyes, and left a coppery taste in his mouth as it sprayed from a another man's throat, chest, stomach; wherever Zoro's blades sliced through flesh.

He didn't dislike the feel of it covering him, didn't mind the taste. What he did mind, was when the rest of the crew, looked at him after the battle, they looked at him like he was a monster. Their eyes would go wide with awe and sometimes fear, they would take in the crimson splatters and shy away from him carefully. They trusted him, they all loved him- they were nakama after all- but the sight of his eyes blazing and the fruits of his winnings dripping from his hair and chin were sometimes a little too much.

No, that wasn't true; not all the crew looked at him like that. The cook was different. The shitty-ass, love-stupid, pain-in-the-ass cook had an entirely different take on Zoro's method of dispatching enemies. The cook looked at him with sheer _disdain_. He looked at Zoro like he was _filthy_, like a child come in from playing outside and was covered in mud. The damn cook regarded him with a sneer that was so _superior_ and _condescending_ that it was all Zoro could do to not extend his killing spree to include the blond bastard.

As the fight ended and the sounds of Luffy's outrageous battle calls ceased, the swordsman stood on the deck, his swords held loosely in his hands. Water and blood ran in rivulets down his neck and chest as he watched the sunset say its last goodbyes to the sky as it sank below the horizon.

Why did that fucking cook hate him so much? What did he ever do to him? Where did his ever present need to piss Zoro off come from? It wasn't like they were rivals for the girl's affections. Zoro had never made a move on either of the females that sailed with them. Nami would probably charge him and Robin would probably kill him… slowly. So there was no reason for the cook to ruffle his feathers and pick fights to prove his manly dominance. It just didn't make any sense, and it pissed Zoro off just thinking about it.

Speaking of which, where was that fucking cook?

Zoro turned around and squinted through the downpour. He slid his swords back into their sheaths and took a few cautious steps across the slippery deck. He always kept a close eye on his crew mates when they were attacked. He had seen Nami and Robin on the upper deck, backs to each other, fending off the few thugs that had climbed the stairs. Usopp had climbed the rigging and taken out several men with his slingshot. Chopper and Franky had stayed together, punching, kicking, and blasting away as they dodged the rubbery arms of their captain snapping over their heads.

He hadn't seen Sanji the entire fight. Where was the bastard?

One more cursory look over the deck and Zoro ducked into the galley. Maybe Sanji had slipped in there to prepare a meal after their long excursion. At least, that's what Zoro hoped. Not that he was worried about the shit cook, no, he was just tired and hungry, and as annoying and insufferable as Sanji was, he could cook up some fucking fantastic grub.

But the galley was empty. No Sanji in sight. Everything was clean and put away. The table was bare, no cutting boards or piles of vegetables set out, no meats thawing in the sink, nothing. The kitchen looked the same as it had right after lunch.

A gnawing feeling started in Zoro's stomach and he backed out the door and descended the stairs from the aftcastle onto the deck. His boots sunk into the grass and made wet sucking sounds as he made his way to the bow where Luffy was slapping Franky on the back.

"Oi, Luffy," he said as he climbed the stairs, "You seen the cook?"

Luffy turned from the cyborg and grinned at Zoro.

"Yeah, Zoro, I just saw him a few minutes ago. Why?"

"Uh," Zoro faltered. "I want a drink and the bastard locked the wine case again."

Luffy laughed and Franky folded his arms behind his head.

"Did you try the galley?" the mechanic asked.

Zoro frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "No, of course not. Why the fuck would I look for the cook in the _galley_?"

Luffy and Franky both laughed at that and Zoro turned away frustrated. The swordsman wanted to clobber the two of them but couldn't show too much concern or who knows what they'd think. He sighed and moved to the deck again. At least he knew the cook was still on board and hadn't been knocked off into the ocean or something equally as horrifying.

But that still left the questions: Where the fuck was he? Had he gone below deck? Why would he go below deck?

Irritated and, to his surprise, slightly worried, Zoro opened the door leading to the storage room and descended the stairs. He almost turned around immediately when he saw the lights were out, but he halted when the familiar scent of fresh blood registered in his head. Someone was down there and they were bleeding.

The restless feeling in Zoro's stomach increased as he descended the last few steps and moved into the dark storeroom. He drew Sandai Kitetsu and took slow careful steps into the darkness. One of their attackers had no doubt hidden here after being injured. The brigand had no other options since Usopp had fired three deadly accurate cannon balls and sunk their small carrack. Did this bastard actually think he was going to get away with stowing away on the Sunny? Was he a retard?

"Oi," Zoro growled into the darkness. "Come out of there, I can smell you. You've got five seconds."

Zoro heard the rustling of fabric and a soft snicker.

"Five seconds before what, shit Marimo?" Came a familiar voice, "You start swinging blindly in the dark? Oh, I'm gonna piss myself I'm so scared."

Zoro startled and sheathed his sword. "Oi cook? What are you doing down here?"

"None of your fucking business."

Zoro didn't back down. "I smell fresh blood, are you okay?"

A soft sigh and another rustle of fabric were Sanji's only reply. Zoro moved back to the stairs and grabbed the lantern hanging from a nail on the wall. He lit the wick and turned back to make his way between the stacks of supplies. Sanji was sitting against the wall, tucked back between a pile of boards for repairs and a large stack of rice bags. He held an unlit cigarette between his lips. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his arms were folded and hidden in his lap. The swordsman couldn't see any blood on the cook except for the few splashes on the collar of his blue shirt.

Zoro found something about this scene very disturbing. Why was Sanji hiding like this? Why did he smell blood, but couldn't see any? Why didn't the other man get to his feet and try and kick the shit out of him for interrupting his… whatever he was doing?

And why was his cigarette unlit?

"You know, the small storage in back is a lot more comfortable," Zoro remarked, almost desperate to get the cook to talk to him. "You can sit on the tarps or the extra sails. You can also lock the door so no one'll walk in on you with your dick in your hand."

Sanji glared at him. "I wasn't jacking off, asshole."

Zoro raised his free hand in mock surrender. "Hey, I don't care what you do on your own time. I'm just saying the smaller storage room is more comfortable."

Sanji closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall in dismissal, but Zoro saw the right side of his mouth turn down slightly as his jaw clenched hard. The swordsman knew that look. It meant Sanji was in pain and he was hiding it.

Zoro set the lantern down and moved to sit in front of the cook. He placed his swords on the floor beside him and crossed his legs. The smell of blood increased as the swordsman moved close and he became more and more anxious, knowing the cook was hurt and he wouldn't admit it.

Sanji's visible eye cracked open and regarded him warily. "What the fuck do you want? Why don't you go steal some of my good cooking wine or clean your damn swords or something? I wanna be alone."

Zoro rested his chin in his hand and glared at the stubborn blond.

"Where are you hurt, cook?"

Sanji's eyes flashed and he sat forward, baring his teeth at the swordsman and snarling in the other's face.

"I'm not hurt anywhere, asshole! Get the fuck away from me, _I'm fine_!"

Zoro's hand shot out and grabbed Sanji's elbow. He meant to shove the cook back against the wall, but the other man cried out and recoiled at the swordsman's touch. Zoro released his arm and stared at Sanji in shock. Tears had sprung into the blond's eyes and the smaller man seemed to curl in on himself. He had dropped his cigarette beside him and that was when Zoro noticed Sanji's pack. It lay on the floor along with his lighter and the two items were covered in blood.

_Unlit cigarette, his pack is covered in blood, hiding his hands_… Zoro was not stupid; he pieced the parts of the puzzle together and slowly reached out to the trembling cook. He gently pulled Sanji's left hand from inside his suit jacket. Zoro held back a gasp when Sanji's appendage was revealed, wrapped haphazardly in blood-soaked cloth, his fingers almost white and cool to the touch.

"I don't…" Sanji said, his voice cracked, "I can't tell of the right one is broken or not. I heard a snap when the big guy and all the crates fell on me, but I can still move it."

Zoro looked up into Sanji's anguished face. The tears had escaped from the corners of the cook's eyes, and they flowed in a steady stream down his cheeks.

"Crates? What the hell happened?"

Sanji held his breath. "It was Luffy…"

Zoro's head snapped up. "_What?_"

"H-he didn't know I was on the other side. He did his bazooka thing and knocked the pile over, he brought down five or six guys with it… including me. The two remaining guys pulled out their knives and pinned me to the deck."

Sanji closed his eyes and let out a soft moan as Zoro removed the cloth. He stared in horror as he took in the condition of the cook's hand. There was an inch by three inch puncture in Sanji's palm. Blood ran heavily from the wound and dripped onto the floor.

"Shit!" Zoro cursed and quickly removed his shirt. He tore it in half and wrapped Sanji's hand tightly. "I have to get you to Chopper!"

"No!" Sanji wailed. "Please don't tell anyone!"

Zoro stopped and looked at Sanji. "What the fuck? What the hell are you gonna do then? Hide in this storage room until you bleed to death? Lemme take you to Chopper and he can stitch you up!"

The words had barely escaped Zoro's lips when he felt strong legs twist around his waist and flip him to his back. He coughed as the wind was knocked out of him and he glared up at Sanji who was straddling his hips.

"If you take me to Chopper, he'll tell Luffy. I can't… Luffy can't know… he can't…"

Zoro's heart ached and he hated himself for it. He hated that he was feeling sorry for the shitty cook, but he couldn't help it.

"Why?" he asked quietly. "Why can't Luffy know?"

Sanji's eyes squeezed shut and he leaned over the swordsman, his shuttering breath played against the skin of Zoro's jaw.

"I don't want him to find out how it happened. It was an accident, I don't blame him. But you know how he is… And if I tell him it just happened while I was fighting… he'll… he'll think I'm weak." Sanji's whole body shuddered and he slumped against Zoro's chest.

"Please don't tell anyone, Zoro… Please…"

The 'please' shattered Zoro, inside and out. The cook had never said please to him before. He forgot about their rivalry, they're constant trying to one-up each other, and focused on the fact that this was his shipmate, his nakama, his friend in distress and asking him for help in his own roundabout way.

Zoro lifted his hands and found Sanji's face. He repositioned the cook so they were looking eye to eye, Sanji directly over him, their breaths mingling.

"We won't tell Luffy how it happened," he said quietly, "But Sanji, you have to have your wounds looked at. No one is going to think you're weak. Do you not notice how Luffy and I always manage to come out of a fight completely messed up? Remember Alabasta? Luffy got a fucking hook through his chest!"

"But, Zoro, it's my _hands_!" Sanji whispered. "How am I going to explain how I let my _hands_ be injured? I'll have to tell-"

"Do you have any idea what will happen if you don't get those treated and they get infected or something?" Zoro growled, interrupting the frantic blond. "Chopper will have your heart for lunch! And speaking of lunch, you can't even light your cigarettes! How the fuck do you expect the others to not know when you aren't going to be able to cook? You have a job to do, Sanji! You have a crew to feed!"

Sanji blinked away his tears and regarded Zoro strangely for a few long moments. The swordsman felt strange under the cook's intense gaze, but he held it and waited for Sanji to respond.

When he did, it wasn't exactly the response Zoro was waiting for. Sanji closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against the swordsman's. It was quick and Zoro had no time to react before Sanji pulled back and nodded his head.

"You're right…" Sanji whispered. "You're right Zoro… will you help me? I'm feeling kind of dizzy."

Zoro's mind was completely blown. Had Sanji just… Had he just _kissed_ him? Was that good? Bad? What exactly did that mean… exactly?

"Zoro?" Sanji asked, his lids sliding closed. "Zoro… I think I'm gonna pass out. Can you get me to Chopper, please?"

Zoro moved. He took the cook in his arms and managed to gather up his swords as well. He carried Sanji, who turned out to weigh almost nothing, up the stairs and across the deck to the infirmary.

X x X x X

Two weeks passed smoothly. The ship sailed on, all the damage from the fight had been repaired, the crew rested and kept to themselves. If anyone thought the food was bad because it was Zoro preparing it with Sanji looking over his shoulder, no one said anything. They also didn't ask why the swordsman refused anyone else a turn. They all just said their thank you's after meals and quietly slipped out of the galley.

No one asked why Zoro had started carrying lighters in his pockets anymore either. It was pretty obvious when Sanji came to Zoro twenty times a day with a cold cigarette between his teeth. The swordsman flicked the lighter and the cook was off again to do God knew what.

What everyone _did_ want to ask, was why Zoro never complained.

X x X x X

A month later, when Chopper removed Sanji's bandages and gave him the good to go, the cook ran from the infirmary and disappeared below deck. He descended the stairs and felt around in the dark for the lantern. He lit the wick and moved between the rows of supplies to where Zoro was sitting on the stack of rice sacks.

"I'm telling you," Zoro grinned, "The smaller store room is more comfortable."

Sanji grinned. "Shut up. I like it in here, brings back memories."

Zoro reached out and plucked the lantern from Sanji's hand. "Aw, so sentimental cook… it's cute."

Sanji moved to press against the swordsman and snorted. "I am _not_ cute."

"Okay, fine," Zoro smiled, "So how do we do this?"

Sanji unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. He kicked off his shoes and removed his socks. "Just sit there on the rice. That way I won't hurt my knees."

Zoro's eyes widened and his jaw became a little slack as Sanji undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. His eyes ran up and down the cook's body. He could feel his mouth running dry and suddenly he wasn't so sure of himself.

"What's wrong?" Sanji asked.

Zoro's head snapped up and he met Sanji's worried eyes. He reached out and pulled the cook against him.

"Nothing's wrong," he murmured. "I've just never seen all of you before."

Sanji made a face. "You've given me head like ten times! Of course you've seen all of me!"

Zoro shook his head and pulled Sanji up to straddle his lap. "No… not all of you like this. All at the same time…" He let his gaze wander over the pale abs, the ropes of muscle that decorated the cook's thighs.

"You're very beautiful, Sanji…" Zoro whispered.

He waited Sanji to tease him, smack him, or something for using such a girly word for him, but when he looked up into the cook's eyes, there was nothing but affection looking back.

"Now who's being sentimental?" Sanji whispered back.

Zoro tilted his head up to kiss the other man's lips. He groaned softly from the back of his throat, and threaded his fingers through blond hair. Sanji rolled his hips and relieved Zoro of his shirt and haramaki. He let his unbound hands explore Zoro's skin for the first time. Reveled in the feel of the raised flesh of the swordsman's many scars, the coarse texture of his hair, and the softness of his neck and jaw.

"Did you bring that oil?" Zoro asked against his mouth.

"Of course I did," Sanji rolled his eyes, "It's in my pocket.

Zoro had to control himself as Sanji bent backwards obscenely to retrieve a small bottle from the pocket of his slacks. He was definitely going to rent the two of them a room the next time they hit a port. He needed a big bed and a little more privacy than the ship's quarters provided so he could try and find out just how flexible the cook really was.

"This is going to hurt you, isn't it?" Zoro asked.

Sanji chuckled. "Yeah, probably. But I doubt it will even come close to the pain of having knives through your palms." He handed the bottle to Zoro and eyed his chest forlornly. "Or a sword across your torso…"

Zoro kissed him softly and let the cook undo his pants and pull out his hard member. He distracted Sanji by nibbling on his lower lip as he coated himself with oil and positioned the smaller man over him.

Sanji gasped and clutched tan shoulders as the head of Zoro's cock pushed inside him. He breathed deeply, letting the sting subside before he settled and let his weight push his body the rest of the way down.

"You okay?"

Sanji smiled when he heard the unmistakable tremor in Zoro's voice. He nodded and opened his eyes. He hadn't realized he had closed them until Zoro had spoken.

Zoro took Sanji's right hand from his shoulder and kissed the new scar on the palm. Sanji shivered and rose up slowly, letting Zoro slide almost completely from him before pushing back down. The swordsman growled and placed Sanji's arm around his neck. He gripped the cook's pale hips and lifted him, loving the feel of Sanji around him. Sanji got the message and started moving, letting his hips grind slowly, but hard against his lover's.

Zoro raised his head and gazed up into Sanji's one visible eye. He remembered the first time they had looked at each other like this: the night Sanji had been injured. Every time Zoro thought about it, he simultaneously cursed and loved that day, for it had brought pain and a little shame to Sanji, but it had also brought the two of them together. Now as he felt Sanji's hands scraping up the skin of his back, he could do nothing but thank whatever powers that might be for this chance. This chance to love and be loved.

Zoro gripped Sanji's hips harder and bit into the cook's neck. Sanji cried out and sped up his movements. Their skin slid easily against each other, the wet slap of skin against skin was the only sound in the large storage room besides their heavy breathing.

When Sanji's rhythm faltered and his bouncing became erratic, Zoro leaned back and locked eyes with the cook. He fisted Sanji's cock in time with their movements and watched all the different emotions play across the other's handsome face.

Sanji finally let out a soft gasp and cursed softly before throwing his head back and arching beautifully against Zoro's body.

"Ah… oh _fuck, Zoro_…"

He came, shuddering and spilling over Zoro's hand and chest. The visual was too much for Zoro and it caused a tightening in the swordsman's lower belly. His hands went back to the cook's hips and he moved increasing Sanji's pace.

Sanji tightened his hold around Zoro's neck and let the swordsman bury his face in his chest. With a soft grunt and teeth sinking into the blond's skin, Zoro came hard and deep inside Sanji. He trembled and sighed as he emptied himself into the willing body above him, and Sanji gasped softly again at the strange sensation.

They didn't move for several minutes. They stayed curled together, catching their breath and enjoying each other's warmth. Finally, Sanji extricated himself and rose. They cleaned off the best they could and exchanged a few quick kisses before climbing the stairs and moving out onto the deck.

Sanji pulled out a cigarette and Zoro lit it for him.

"You know I can do that myself now, right?" Sanji smiled.

Zoro shrugged. "I know, but I like doing it."

Sanji nodded with a quick shrug. "All right then."

The two stood in a companionable silence for several minutes, watching the sun set over the water.

"So what now?" Sanji asked.

Zoro turned to him and grinned.

"Now, you make me food. I'm tired of cooking for myself."

Sanji chuckled. "Okay… why don't you go and steal some of my good wine from the case? I think you'd enjoy the bottle on the bottom shelf with the gold label."

Zoro grinned and pecked Sanji on the cheek.

"Sex _and_ good wine? You spoil me, cook."

Sanji pecked back and smiled softly. "You deserve it. You took care of me when I was injured."

Zoro thought for a minute before stepping closer and putting his arm around Sanji's waist. "You don't have to be injured for me to take care of you... I'll keep doing it… if you want."

Sanji's throat tightened but he hid his reaction by puffing on his cigarette.

"Just go get the wine, Marimo. I'll go make you something to eat."

Zoro hadn't missed how his words affected the cook. He let go of Sanji and turned, heading towards the wine storage, smiling the whole way.

**END **


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